“I’ll make note of that,” I said.Literary salons?What kind of books did Penny think her husband wrote? As she talked my ear off about the proper temperature to serve wine and why cupcakes and sausage rolls were inappropriate ashors d’oeuvres, I cast my eyes around the room, hoping to spot someone who might save me from the dreary conversation.
Penny was right about one thing – the turnout was better than I’d dared to hope. More and more people trickled in, spilling out of the Events space into the shop, and every one of them seemed to have a book or two in their hands. Mrs. Ellis came over with her knitting circle friends, who crowded around me, pushing Penny off to the side (such a shame) as they gushed about the transformation of the shop.
“You’re a breath of fresh air to this place, Mina!” said Hazel Barrowly. “I can see Nevermore Bookshop becoming a real asset to the village.”
“I’d love to talk to you about running a joint event,” Sylvia Blume added. Sylvia ran the local crystal and healing shop where my mum worked sometimes as a tarot reader. “I see you have quite a decent occult section. We could bring in a famous metaphysical thinker for a lecture and then set up a stall in the corner. You mother could even do her readings. It would betransformative.”
“That sounds like fun.” I forced a smile, panic thumping in my chest. I wanted to keep my mother as far away from the financial side of the shop as possible, especially if she kept trying to push a weight-loss patch on my customers.A change of subject is in order.“Mrs. Ellis, did you book your holiday?”
“I did!” She swiped a second glass of cider from the bar and brought it to her lips. “I’m leaving in just two more days. It’s all very exciting. I was just telling the girls here that—”
“Oh, Iloveyour dress,” a woman cooed, stepping into the middle of our circle, grabbing at my skirt, and fanning it out.
“Thanks. I made it.” I beamed. Since I hadn’t wanted to brave our flat for a change of clothes, I’d brushed off my ex-fashion-designer chops and whipped up the dress this afternoon by shredding an old purple prom dress I found at the village junk shop. I’d slashed up the skirt, added black lace panels, and edged the bodice in black ribbon. Worn with my trusty Doc Martens and some gold jewelry, it looked like a stage outfit for the singer of a punk band, which was, of course, why I loved it.
“You’re talented. Do you take commissions?” The woman stuck out her lower lip as she jutted out her hip and gestured to her expensive black velvet cocktail dress, shot with threads of silver that caught the light and accentuated her enviable curves. She touched a hand to her ash-blonde hair, perfectly set into a Marilyn Monroe style, and pouted a pair of cherry-red bow-shaped lips. “My husband is always dragging me to these boring book events. Yours is a cut above the rest, because at least you have free booze.”
“Who’s your husband?”
“Brian, the publisher.” She pointed across the room, where Brian stood deep in conversation with Morrie. Looking at his rumpled suit and middle-aged spread, I couldn’t imagine him with this vixen, but I guess there was no accounting for love. I wasn’t exactly one to make judgments, what with my three boyfriends. “I’m Amanda Letterman. You might have seen me on Youtube. I have my own makeup channel with a hundred thousand subscribers. I wouldn’t normally stoop to attending an event in theprovinces, but Brian says we need to put on a good public face for the business. Of course, I just come along for the talent.” She wet her lower lip as her eyes trailed after Danny. Her gaze didn’t linger long, as it swept over to devour Angus, and then lingered on Heathcliff. “Mmmm, and what a lot of talent, too. Who is that rugged fox in the doorway? I want to sit on his face and—”
“I’ve never thought about making clothes for other people,” I said, partly to shut her up and partly because the wheels were already turning in my head. If an influencer like Amanda who attended all sorts of industry parties and maybe had an influencer channel online wore one of my designs, I might be able to get some work. It wouldn’t be the same as working New York Fashion Week, but at least I’d be able to use my design skills before they became useless…
No. I’m not going to dwell on it.And just like that, I shoved down the fear that threatened to well up inside me whenever I thought of losing my sight. My doctor believed it would happen within the next eighteen months. Last year, thinking about what I wouldn’t be able to do made me angry and upset, but ever since the guys had come into my life I found myself feeling more positive about the future. And finding out that with the right technology I could still do most of the things I enjoyed was helping me see that my life wasn’t over. In fact, sometimes my life wastoointeresting.
Even though I was feeling better about my eyes, I still occasionally had a moment where the uncertainty and unfairness of it got to me. But I certainly wasn’t going to ruin this weekend by dwelling on it, not when Danny’s event might help pay for the technology we need to enable me to keep working in the shop.
“Well, I will definitely hire you.” Amanda fingered the fabric of the dress. “I must warn you, though, I’m difficult to work with. My husband calls me a right cow. But what would he know, right? He just sells dusty old books.”
That’s… why did I need to know that?I kept the smile plastered on my face. “I don’t have a card or anything. But if you have something I can write on, I’ll give you my number.”
Amanda grabbed one of Danny’s books off the table and indicated that I should scribble my details inside. Danny passed by, raising his eyebrows at us. “Isn’t the author supposed to be signing his own books?” he said with a laugh, patting Amanda’s hip in what seemed to be an overly familiar way for the wife of his business colleague.
“Oh, Danny!” she giggled, raking her nails over his shoulder. “I’m just getting some details off this sweet girl. She’s going to make me a new dress. I’ll come for you later. I want apersonalizedsignature.”
“I look forward to it,” he grinned, giving her a look like he might gobble her up. Amanda batted her eyelashes at him, her fingers sliding down his arm. I stepped away, my skin crawling.Am I imagining it, or is Danny awfully cozy with his publisher’s wife? Or is that just how writers are?
You’re not imagining it,a familiar voice said inside my head.
I cast my eyes up to the rafters, where Quoth perched, watching the party from above. I gave him a little wave, which he returned with a nod of his head.
It’s obvious to me, and to most of the people here, and especially to Penny Sledge, who is staring daggers at her husband from across the room. Oh, and your mother is sticking Flourish patches on Mrs. Ellis and her friends. She pulled a sign-up sheet from out of her bra.
I rolled my eyes at Quoth.Of course she has. Can you get over there and maybe try to stop her? Crap on her if you have to.
Mina, I love you, and I’d do anything for you, but I’m not defecating on your mother.
Please. I’d be eternally grateful—
“I’m surprised a bird like that could be domesticated,” a voice said beside me. “I expected he’d be crapping everywhere.”
Startled, I turned to face Danny’s friend Angus. He held a glass of cider in one hand and a plate of food in the other. He held the plate out to me and I accepted a sausage roll.
“Ravens are actually incredibly smart,” I said, watching Quoth fly off to rescue the knitting club. “Researchers have had them solve complex puzzles and can even teach them simple vocabulary. Quoth is the smartest raven of them all – he never defecates on anyone unless they deserve it.”
Angus laughed. “I love it. He gives this place a bit of personality. Not that it didn’t already have buckets of that. But now that the grumpy wanker isn’t in charge anymore, I might pop in for my reading material. I only live a few streets away, and read a lot since I retired, especially in hardcopy. No ereader for me. You’ve got a great selection of crime novels.”
“Thank you. Do you come to all of Danny’s events?” I asked.
